The last thing I remember was standing on a bridge staring down at the sea.

The moon hung unusually low that night, too large, too bright, like an unblinking eye watching it's prey. There was something strange about that moment, though I couldn't name it then.

I never imagined it would be my final time that I would stand there, quietly admiring the sea.

When I opened my eyes the next day, the world felt unfamiliar.

A steady beeping echoed behind me , voices murmured somewhere closer, and as i blinked against the pale light, a quiet unease settled in my chest, small, but impossible to ignore. A faint cry echoed through the room, thin and fragile.

For a moment, i searched for it's source, until I realised it was mine. The realisation struck like a silent shatter. I was no longer an observer. I was the baby itself, with small hands, a vast unfamiliar world before me, and a racing heart faster than i could comprehend.

Shock washed over me.

" How is this possible " I thought

" I remember watching the sea, then settling in my car and falling asleep...right? " I began to doubt whether I had truly fallen asleep in my car, or if someone have murdered me. Maybe I had slipped into a coma, trapped inside a cruel dream. I was certain this was a dream. Being a baby was the worst kind of nightmare.

Just as I was almost convinced of it, large hands reached for me and lifted my tiny, newly born body. I realized it was a nurse, cradling me gently before turning towards a woman lying on the bed.

She was the definition of beauty, forest green eyes that mirrored nature itself, petite blonde hair, and flawless creamy skin. " Is she a model? " I wondered, my infant mind working far too fast for this fragile body.

The nurse bent closer and murmured into my ears. " That's your mommy"

The world snapped into focus. I had in fact Transmigrated. And there was no turning back. My mother's beautiful eyes settled on me, filled with adoration I never experienced in my past life. Being loved felt…strange. Slightly overwhelming, even.

But unexpectedly. I didn't hate it.

When the nurse placed me in her arms, she immediately started showering me with kisses, on my cheeks, my nose, even my eyes.

I decided then and there that personal space was apparently optional in this life. She kept kissing me as if she might forget my face of she stopped. My adult mind noted this as excessive. My baby body, however, responded by making an undignified sound and flailing one arm in approval.

So this was my reality now.

A fully grown consciousness trapped in a baby that couldn't even control its own limbs, yet apparently qualified to receive unlimited affection. I sighed internally. This was going to be a long childhood.

After my mother got discharged, I fought sleep with everything I had. Unfortunately my baby body fought back harder. I didn't lose consciousness entirely, just enough to feel betrayed.

By the time we got home, two facts had become painfully clear.

My mother was Ryūgami Tsukiko. I was Ryūgami Takeru, a name suspiciously similar, but still leagues better than Aoyama Nagi. Progress was being made. The second realization hit harder.

The was no father in sight.

So naturally, my first thought was:

… Did he vanish, or was I supposed to come with a receipt?

Sooner or later, I accepted the reality that I was going to be raised by a single parent for the rest of my life.

Honestly? I could’ve done worse.

My mother, however, was far from struggling. I realized this the moment we arrived at our destination—our house.

Calling it a house felt dishonest. It was a full-sized, two-story estate with a wide front porch, stone and wood layered together like it belonged in a lifestyle magazine. Warm lights glowed behind large windows, the kind that suggested comfort, money, and absolutely no financial trauma. A neatly curved driveway led to not one, but two garage doors—because apparently one was insufficient.

I stared at it with my tiny, helpless body and fully functional adult brain.

So this was my childhood home.

Single parent household or not, it seemed I had reincarnated straight into luxury.

Living this new life didn’t erase the old one.

My past refused to stay buried.

My death remained a missing piece—an unanswered question clawing at the back of my mind. My father’s absence might complicate things, financially or otherwise, but it wouldn’t stop me. Not when the truth was still out there.

I hadn’t been reborn by accident.

And until I uncovered the reason behind my transmigration, this life—no matter how comfortable—would never truly be mine.